


You Ain't Ever Gonna Burn My Heart Out

by wneleh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Mary Sue, Oasis, Original Character(s), Post-Series, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other day, I finally got to fly out to Atlantis and finish up my interviews.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Ain't Ever Gonna Burn My Heart Out

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2010 sga_genficathon, genre angst, prompt "So I start the revolution from my bed, 'Cos you said the brains I have went to my head" (Don't Look Back in Anger by Oasis). 
> 
> Because Mary Sues were being discussed throughout LJ fandom at the time, I decided to see if I could write a realistic one...

_Slip inside the eye of your mind_  
Don't you know you might find   
A better place to play - Oasis

You Ain't Ever Gonna Burn My Heart Out

There was a shimmering in the predawn sky beyond the helicopter's windshield, and suddenly Atlantis was beneath us, an irregular mass of dimly-lit towers and piers gracing the North Pacific. I could not have said at that moment whether the tallest spires were miles high, or merely meters.

Twelve years on the technical staff of the Stargate program, five years gleaning usable science from mission reports sent from this place, and three weeks of interviews had come to this. At last, a chance to see the city, and meet the team which had kept the SGC's physical scientists and engineers the busiest. Col. John Sheppard and his team's interviews would be the final ones needed for the task I'd been assigned: a summary of the arguments for sending Atlantis back to the Pegasus galaxy vs. keeping the city on Earth.

The military personnel I'd spoken with, regardless of rank, whether or not they'd served on Atlantis, had been nearly unanimous. Atlantis was too hard to defend in Pegasus: It had been attacked, breached, nearly lost, and even surrendered a seemingly improbably number of times. And, it was too powerful a force not to harness in Earth's defense. In the Milky Way, we could use it, we could defend it, we could keep it from being turned against humanity.

The scientists, in contrast, had emphasized everything we'd learned in, and from, the Pegasus galaxy. When pressed, however, none could produce a convincing objective that required Atlantis to be located there. "It's our home; we are comfortable," Radek Zelenka had said. But even he had admitted that Atlantis wasn't necessary for the exploration of Pegasus. 

Zelenka's own research has primarily focused on understanding Atlantis's systems, which could be done wherever the city happened to be. He is currently dividing his time between Atlantis, Prague, and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, which could be argued implies that the study of Atlantis is, if anything, assisted by its being on Earth.

\- - - - - -

Even though Atlantis has been moved a bit further offshore than its original location, it would still be visible from the coast unshielded and to passing vessels. Therefore, protocol is that Atlantis's shield is only lowered momentarily, and only between 10 p.m. and an hour before dawn. 

So day visitors like me are always given an early-morning tour of some of the parts of the city the expedition had colonized, in my case a brief look at the control tower, a sample of the botany labs, and a walk-through of the recreational facilities.

We eventually arrived at the cafeteria, a room that proved that institutional food production could make any place less magical. There I drained several cups of coffee while I looked over my agenda for the day. I was to start with Dr. Rodney McKay, whom I've known for years (the reverse, I learned, isn't true!). Then, as I'd requested, I was to speak to the two Pegasus natives who'd been part of Col. Sheppard's team, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan. My final official interview would be with Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, the legendary accidental military commander of the Atlantis Expedition, himself.

It was with some trepidation that I finally rapped my (brass rat-adorned for the occasion) knuckles on the doorframe of Rodney McKay's lab. The Great Rodney McKay's lab, I should say; the man is more productive in a bad afternoon than I am in a year. I'd think him an impossibility except for the existence of Samantha Carter. One of the civilians stuck aboard Destiny is rumored to have a similar level of talent, though he's also said to be a bit of a slacker, so I don't know whether he'll develop his abilities. Or even get the chance, poor kid. And poor us, I suppose.

BID. When I'd worked with Rodney McKay years before, before the Atlantis Expedition had set out, he'd been rude, officious, and, as far as I was concerned, not nearly as smart as he (and some people at SGC) thought he was. That he'd considered Teal'c at all expendable was something that many of us had had a hard time forgiving. Later events, of course, confirmed his brilliance, despite some notable failures.

Rumor had it that McKay had mellowed during his time in the Pegasus galaxy, but the man who straightened up from some piece of ancient tech (I do algorithms, not hardware, so I couldn't begin to guess its function from its form) gave me the same expression I remembered - a condescending sneer. When I explained my purpose, the sneer became a scowl.

It was not, however, aimed at me, I soon realized. "I don't give a damn where we park," he said. "They'll come, they'll break things, I'll have to fix them."

When I asked him who, exactly, 'they' were - Wraith? Goa'uld? Graduate students? - he didn't have an answer beyond another scowl. I don't know whether he had any fixed idea himself. Just a sense of inevitability. 

So I tried another tack, and asked him whether he was planning on becoming more involved with the scientific community (since the Rodney McKay I remember took a peacock-like pride in any indication of his place in it) now that he might be spending time on Earth. "Idiots," he said, which was the McKay I remembered, then, "I don't their language anymore, that is if I ever did. There's too much I can't tell them. And when I talk to them - or even to a nobody, like you - I'm back to playing the same mindless political games I lost when I was twenty-five."

He paused, looking embarrassed. "Not that you're a nobody. Um, are you?" Another pause. "See, I'm making a hash of this. This planet does that to me."

"So you want Atlantis to go back to the Pegasus galaxy?"

He shook his head. "What do I want? Being on Earth will make my personal life a little easier, but I doubt that's a high priority of your masters.

"It comes down to, it that really doesn't matter what I want. Something will break, or be broken, and someone will call me and I'll have to fix it. So I might as well stay on board for the ride, wherever it goes."

\- - - - - - -

Ronon Dex is - how do I put this? In pictures, he's very attractive, in a rough sort of way that one generally doesn't encounter in the course of a day's work in the lab or in line at Costco. In person, though, I found him very intimidating. Here was someone I couldn't outfight, couldn't outrun, and whose body language was simply *different*. 

Suspecting that he might be uncomfortable being stuck in a conference room with a middle-aged woman for an hour, I'd originally asked that we talk while he showed me a bit of Atlantis. But he made me uncomfortable enough that I instead suggested we sit out on the patio outside the cafeteria, where there were other people coming and going. It's actually a beautiful location, overlooking the ocean toward the California coast.

Dex didn't so much sit in as subdue his chair; I couldn't tell whether he was bored, or angry, or simply didn't fit. 

To my surprise, he spoke first. "McKay says I should be nice to you."

"Really?" I couldn't see McKay and Dex chatting. 

He nodded. "Briefed me last night, called just now to remind me to mind my manners. Says you decide what happens next."

"Well, that's really overstating my role," I said. "I'm just summarizing the different options for Atlantis. I have low friends in high places and they thought I'd bring a semi-independent perspective without having to spend months getting up to speed, since I've already read all the mission reports that you all've generated."

"Then let me tell you - Atlantis should be anywhere but here, like this."

"What do you mean?"

"It shouldn't be parked out here in the middle of an ocean, with hardly anyone here permanently and maybe five visitors a day."

"You think it should be used for exploration and science?"

"It should be used for war."

This took me aback. "Any war in particular?"

"You got one you want ended?"

"On Earth, several," I said. "But I don't think Atlantis would do any good." I wondered how much, if anything, he knew about Earth. "It's a hearts and minds thing."

"Doesn't sound like war."

I had no answer to this, so I asked, "Do you think Atlantis should return to Pegasus?"

"Yes," he said, "But it doesn't have to right away."

"What about you, yourself?" I asked. "Do you want to go home?" I stopped, realizing what I'd said. "Back to Pegasus," I amended.

He looked at me sharply for an instant, then took pity. "I'm not big on 'home'," he said. "'Home' is people, but people change, what they want to do and who they want to do it with changes. Or they die. Or get cloned, or end up in replicator bodies. You know."

I nodded, thinking, things really do sound odder when you hear them than when you read them. But this got us talking; I think he found me a not-completely-useless person to bounce his own perspective on the lingering Wraith and Asuran threats off of. We ended up taking our walk, and it was delightful.

"So, do you know what you're going to write?" he asked when we'd returned to the cafeteria and grabbed lunch.

"I'm going to write a lot of things," I said. "Give all sides."

"That'd drive me crazy," he said.

\- - - - -

My meeting with Teyla Emmagan was scheduled for 1 p.m. in her quarters - in other words, for nap time. We spoke in the low, steady tones of those used to not waking toddlers; and I'm happy to say we were successful.

"Do you have any help?" I asked as we settled onto mats on the floor (she had chairs, but I'm a floor person too). 

"Some," she said. "More offers than hands."

"I get it," I said. "I learned pretty early that 'I'll babysit anytime' means 'You had a baby? How nice!'"

"You have children?"

"Yes, two girls," I said. "They're at school. Their father took them there this morning and they're going home with friends later."

I hoped that Teyla (she seemed much more a Teyla than a Ms. Emmagan) would take this opening to say something about Kanaan, about whom I'd read surprisingly little. I didn't even know whether he was on Atlantis! But the conversation turned to other things.

After a bit, I asked her where Atlantis should be located.

"It doesn't particularly matter where it is based," she replied. "Its flight to where it is needed seems to be a relatively minor matter."

"As long as we have the power, yes," I said. "But that's not a given. We still can't charge ZPMs, after all."

"Well, perhaps you will be the one to figure out how," she said, and smiled - 'here, have a compliment.'

I smiled in return, not bothering to say that that wasn't really my field - and that not being either Rodney McKay or Samantha Carter, that mattered. 

"So, if the city is to be limited to one galaxy, where should that be?"

"Is there another option, aside from the two?"

"I really don't know," I said. 

She simply smiled at me serenely. Yes, that was 'serenely.'

"I'd have thought you'd want to return the city to your people," I said.

"My people do not need Atlantis. I would say, it is the very opposite of what they need." She sighed. "What they need is to stay some place long enough to harvest what they plant, live in what they build. Atlantis may bring that, or it may not."

She paused, no longer looking quite as serene. "I understand you are something of an expert on what we accomplished the past five of your years. Pegasus is a much safer place for most of its people now. I think perhaps it is time for your SGC to find other people to help."

"So you want more war, like Dex?"

"That is not how I would phrase it," she said. "But perhaps. And perhaps that we desire this - is not a good thing. But it is what we know."

\- - - - - -

My final meeting was with the man, the legend, the great - okay, you get the picture - newly-full bird Colonel John Sheppard. 

I expected someone like General O'Neill - not a grunt, but one of those guys who wise-cracks his way through life to mask his impatience with how most of us plod through it. There'd been plenty of hints of a wry sense of humor in his mission reports, after all.

I wasn't expecting the very intense, beautiful man sitting across the conference table from me. 

"Don't send us back there," he said, in lieu of a more sociable preamble.

"Us?" I asked. "So you're staying on Atlantis?" Did he actually get a choice? I wondered; then I remembered who he was.

"I'm not leaving the city. Not - any time soon."

"Not while your team is here?"

He remained almost motionless.

"And you think Atlantis should stay here here - ten miles off the coast of California?"

"I don't care how far off shore we are. As long as we don't leave the planet, looking for trouble."

"So you think Earth deserves Atlantis?"

"I think Atlantis deserves Earth."

"How so?"

He closed his eyes briefly, and I realized that the intensity I sensed was partially fueled by exhaustion, mental if not physical. Perhaps staying on Atlantis was the last thing he needed! But that was beyond my purview. 

He refixed his gaze on me. "The city is tired."

"It looks fine to me. And, frankly, underutilized as all get out."

"Then we should go public. We should have years ago!"

"Assume we don't, Colonel," I said. "Why limit Atlantis to one place?"

"I'm not saying for forever."

"With everything I've read about you, Colonel, the last thing I'd expect would be for you to want to moth-ball Atlantis."

He let his posture loosen slightly, and I realized I'd lost him. "You're a fan," he said. "I get it now. You're a fan."

"Excuse me?"

"You've read all about our missions, our adventures" - he made it sound like a curse - "and you want us to have more of them."

How on Earth (literally!) could I answer that? "Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan don't seem to share your view." Rodney McKay, though, might, I realized.

"Give them a chance."

Was that it? He wanted to give them a chance at - what?

"To live," he said, answering my unspoken question. "They deserve a chance to live. Them, Rodney. And Torren deserves to grow up with a mother."

"You're being pretty presumptuous," I said.

"Well, you did ask."

There really was nothing I could say to that.

\- - - - - -

So I am at an impasse. While I am not specifically required to include a recommendation for a course of action, it's my understanding that one would be appreciated. This is my best chance to affect the future of humanity's presence in space.

However, I suspect that John Sheppard was right - I am a fan. I want Atlantis out there, doing things, her crew giving me something to believe in, something to root for. 

But I have come to realize that this dehumanizes my idols. They don't exist for my amusement. 

A pity, that.

_And So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late and she's walking on by_  
My soul slides away, but don't look back in anger, don't look back in anger   
I heard you say 

_At least not today._ \- Oasis


End file.
